


you're stuck with me (no homo)

by carpisuns



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: (no appearance but heavy mentions), Bisexual Luka Couffaine, Coming Out, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Luxy, Luxy Week (Miraculous Ladybug), M/M, Snake Luka Couffaine | Viperion, also xy being soft/vulnerable bc i can redeem him if i WANT, bob roth sucks and he's wrong, luka being a cheeseball musician as usual, theoretically...if this weren't just a oneshot lol, xy being xy, xy is a viperion simp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25620226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpisuns/pseuds/carpisuns
Summary: An akuma has trapped Luka in a tiny box with the person he hates the most—XY Roth. Maybe he'll be surprised by what he learns about XY ... if he can manage not to kill him first.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/XY (Miraculous Ladybug)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 45





	you're stuck with me (no homo)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Taliax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taliax/gifts), [j_majka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_majka/gifts), [bugaboo_n_bananoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugaboo_n_bananoir/gifts).



> dedicated to tali, janai, and mad e for always providing me with such delicious luxy food. i am glad we can scream about these losers together 🥺
> 
> consider this a formal invitation to join us in luxy rarepair hell <333
> 
> and thanks to tali for betaing for me!

“Ugh! This is so stupid! _Extremely_ not cash money! This is, like, the un-cash-money-est thing that’s ever happened to me!”

Luka groaned. Why, _why_ had the akumatized villain trapped him with _XY_ of all people? Luka always considered himself a pretty chill guy, but apparently fate enjoyed testing the limits of his chillness.

He sighed as XY banged uselessly against the metal ceiling of the box.

“Would you cut that out?” Luka said loudly.

XY scoffed. “Bruh, I’m just trying to get out of here. I don’t see _you_ doing anything to help.”

Luka clenched his teeth. Everything about XY made his skin crawl. His nasally whine of a voice. His pretentious stack of blond hair. His gaudy-looking bling.

Oh yeah, and his habit of being a filthy, fake, music-stealing cheater.

Unfortunately, he knew that getting into a fight wouldn’t do him any good right now. He forced himself to take a deep breath. “We just need to wait. I’m sure Ladybug will figure out a way to let us out soon.”

“No way,” XY said. “Ladybug screwed up! She needs that slithery dude.”

“Uh ... what?”

“You know. The snake guy with the baby harp. And the hot abs.”

Luka’s eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t sure whether to be disgusted or flattered. He decided to go with “weirded out” instead.

“No homo,” XY added. He slumped against the wall of the box. “The point is, he can switch it back so they’ll get it right this time and I _won’t_ be trapped in this tiny box with a lame-o _Jagged Stone_ groupie.” He scrunched up his nose, eyeing Luka’s t-shirt.

 _Better than being stuck with a tasteless thieving hack,_ Luka thought. Especially one that smelled like a lyceé locker room. Ugh. If only this thing had a window.

Luka tried to ignore XY, but his ridiculous hair stuck out so far that it was practically tickling Luka’s nose. He batted it away. “Give me some space, will you?”

“How? There _is_ no space!” XY whined. “This thing is tiny! And it’s—it’s getting smaller! Holy freak, man, the _walls_ …” His blue eyes went wide, darting around the box.

Wait … was XY … actually scared?

A loud thump sounded above their heads. XY shrieked and flung himself onto Luka’s lap. Luka stiffened and leaned away from his Dorito breath. Unfortunately, there was no escaping the overpowering scent of Axe body spray.

“No homo,” XY whimpered, wrapping his arms around Luka’s neck.

It felt … very homo.

“Get off me!” Luka disentangled himself from XY and shoved him away.

XY lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. “Come on, Mr. Snake,” he whispered. “Turn back time. Back to when I was in my bed with my Doritos watching _Spongebob_.”

Luka rolled his eyes. “That’s not even how it works. Besides, how would you even know whether Viperion had used his power? He’s the only one who would remember the time loops.”

“Whatever,” XY snapped. “I just hope he comes and fixes it all soon. ’Cause this place is … it’s …” He trailed off and scooted to the middle of the box, pulling his knees up to his chest.

Luka watched him silently from the corner. Man, XY was pitiful. This wasn’t nearly as bad as the time Guitar Villain almost pushed XY off the Eiffel Tower. Not to mention the dozen other akuma attacks that had happened in the last month. But clearly, XY was terrified. He looked so small and frail huddled up in the middle that Luka couldn’t keep ignoring him.

He sighed. “Look, XY …”

“Xavier.”

Luka froze. “What?”

“That’s my real name,” XY said softly. “Xavier-Yves. Xavier is what my friends used to call me. Back when I had actual friends.”

“I thought all your _peeps_ called you XY.” Luka didn’t try to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“Peeps are different than friends,” XY said. “Peeps are like … my posse. They follow me around and help me because I’m rich and beautiful and famous. Also because my dad pays them. They know my favorite hairspray brand, and how many pumps of caramel go in my latte, and where I left my lucky headband, but …” He swallowed. “They don’t _really_ know me.”

Luka stared. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because if I’m going to die in this tiny box right now I would like to pretend that I died with at least one friend!”

Luka blinked in surprise. “Are you okay?”

“Um, obviously not! I’m literally dying!”

“No, you’re not.”

“Oh, really? Then why does my chest feel like it’s going to explode? Gah, I can’t—I can’t breathe ...” He clutched the giant XY pendant at his chest and let out a ragged gasp.

Oh no. This was not good. It seemed like XY was actually having some kind of panic attack. Maybe he was claustrophobic? Luka never thought he’d find himself actually trying to _help_ XY with anything, but he couldn’t just leave him alone when he was going through an actual crisis.

“Uh, just breathe, okay?” he said, scooting closer.

“I can’t,” XY choked.

“Hey. XY.”

XY let out another gasp. “I think—I think I’m—”

“Xavier.”

XY looked up at Luka, his eyes wide and desperate.

“It’s going to be okay.”

XY didn’t answer, but he seemed to hang onto the words like a lifeline.

“You know,” Luka went on, “when I’m stressed out, meditation really helps me.”

“What?” XY squeezed his eyes shut, still panting. “My dad says that’s gay.”

Luka’s mouth fell open. “That’s ridiculous. How is it ‘gay’ to try to clear your mind and stablize your emotions?”

XY peeked at him through the crack in his eyelids. “Sure _sounds_ gay.”

Luka rolled his eyes. “Fine. You can just continue to freak out because calming yourself down is _too gay_ for you.”

Something clanged against the side of the box. XY jumped.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “I’ll do your weird homo menditation or whatever you call it.”

Luka groaned. “Just shut up and close your eyes.”

XY obeyed, hugging his knees tighter to his chest.

“You’re in a wide, open field,” Luka said. “Can you see it?”

“I—I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Breathe with me. In. Out. In. Out.”

XY’s breath was still uneven. “I can’t. I—help me. Please.”

Luka’s eyes fell on his guitar. He picked it up, careful not to hit anything in the cramped space.

“Dude, how is your lame music supposed to help me right now?” XY’s voice was just a wheeze.

“ _Shhh_ ,” Luka said, partly because he didn’t think that talking was good for XY right now and partly because XY’s talking wasn’t good for _him_. “Just listen.”

He wasn’t sure what to play, so he just ran through a couple of his favorite Jagged Stone tunes. That didn’t seem to help XY much, though. Obviously not. He had no taste when it came to music (or anything, really).

But what kind of music could even help? All of XY’s “music” was so bland and repetitive. Maybe it was be so boring that it actually _could_ calm someone down from a panic attack. It wasn’t like Luka could play it on his guitar, though, since A) he didn’t know any of XY’s songs (and he didn’t want to) and B) XY’s stuff was just a bunch of cobbled-together synth beats that he remixed on his computer or something.

His fingers slipped on the frets as something collided with the side of the box again. XY squealed, and his breathing got even more erratic.

“Stay with me, XY,” Luka said, trying to sound calm. “Just focus on the music.”

He started up another gentle tune. If it were anyone else stuck in this box with him, he would just listen and then play whatever song was in their heart. But he doubted XY even had one. Everything about him was fake.

XY started rocking back and forth, eyes shut tight, chin buried between his knees. Several strands of hair had slipped loose from his headband.

Well ... he may have been an obnoxious phony, but he was still a human being, right? There had to be _something_ there. (Even if it was deep, deep down.)

Luka’s fingers slowed as he listened to the sound of XY’s unsteady breathing. His fear was real enough, but channeling that into the music probably wouldn’t help that much. He tried to dig deeper. XY’s words echoed in his mind.

_Xavier is what my friends used to call me._

_Peeps are like my posse. ... They don’t_ really _know me_.

_Help me. Please._

He found the tune morphing into something kind of sad and longing. XY stopped rocking, turning his head slightly toward the music. Gradually, his breathing slowed. After a few minutes, his eyes cracked open.

“What is this song?”

Luka shrugged.

XY’s arms relaxed around his knees. “Well, it’s kind of lame, but I guess it’s okay if you keep playing until the hot snake guy shows up to save us. No homo.”

Luka fought the urge to roll his eyes again. “Yeah, well, until then, you’re stuck with me. _No homo._ ”

He focused on the strings underneath his fingers, but he could feel XY’s eyes on him. He glanced up, and XY quickly looked away.

“Are …” XY swallowed, eyes glued to the floor. “Are _you_ homo?”

Luka’s fingers stumbled and then froze. A dissonant note rang through the air in the confined space.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been asked that question before (albeit a little more tactfully). And It wasn’t like he was uncomfortable with talking about his orientation. But Luka could sense that XY wasn’t just asking out of curiosity.

“I’m bi,” he said finally.

XY looked up from the floor. For once, his eyes were unreadable. “Well … that’s cool, I guess.” He paused. “Just don’t think _I’m_ gonna be all homo.”

Luka didn’t know what to say. But as the silence stretched on, the hidden weight of XY’s question sank like a stone to the bottom of his stomach. He didn’t need to play his guitar to hear the lonely, longing question in XY’s heart.

“You know,” Luka said slowly, “if _you’re_ homo … that’s okay too.”

XY’s eyes darted back to the floor. “Right. Well, tell that to my dad.”

His voice was just a mumble, so soft that Luka might not have understood it if it weren’t for years of practice with Juleka. Maybe XY didn’t really want Luka to hear.

But maybe he did.

Luka laid his guitar across his lap. “Your dad sucks. And he’s wrong.”

It probably wasn’t the best way to respond, but Luka had never been that great with words. Besides, what exactly are you _supposed_ to say when an obnoxious pop star who once ripped off your music comes out to you while you’re trapped with him in a tiny box during an akuma attack? But ... judging from XY’s expression, he probably shouldn’t just leave it at that.

Luka cleared his throat. “Uh, what I meant was that … your dad doesn’t get to tell you who you are. You’re the only one who decides who you’re going to be.” Hopefully XY would eventually decide to stop being an entitled brat with no respect for intellectual property, but Luka doubted it.

XY’s brow furrowed. “I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?” Luka asked, heart sinking. There was no way he would be able to keep his cool if he had to explain the concept of moral agency to a guy who probably had never read anything more than the label of an energy drink.

“I don’t get why you’re being, like, nice to me. I basically just kind of told you that … that I’m …” XY swallowed.

“Gay?” Luka prompted.

XY nodded, his face reddening.

“So?”

“So … you could ruin everything for me! You could, like, destroy my whole career!”

“Why would I do that?” Well, apart from the obvious. But Luka was curious to see the extent of XY’s self-awareness.

“Because I stole your music!” XY said. “You could get back at me for it. I mean, more than you did when you were Silencer.”

Luka stiffened. He didn’t like thinking about the time he’d been akumatized. Besides, he didn’t think XY would remember him after all this time. Sure, XY’s voice had been taken away, but in the end, he got it back, his dad was able to talk his way out of a scandal, and nothing had really changed. Luka had been an annoyance to XY and Bob Roth for a single day, but that was it. XY was just as insufferable as ever, and his music was still unoriginal and uninspiring (and most likely stolen). Luka obviously hadn’t made any kind of impression on him.

Except ... apparently he had?

“I wouldn’t do that,” Luka said. “It would make me just as bad as—” He stopped himself, but it was too late.

“Just as bad as me,” XY finished quietly. All of his usual stuck-up affection had seeped away, leaving his voice sounding strangely small.

Luka opened his mouth, but no words came. He couldn’t take it back now. And why should he? He was just being honest. It was about time XY understood what a terrible person he was.

Still, Luka couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. XY was staring at the floor, shoulders slumped. Even his hair seemed to droop.

“Don’t worry,” Luka said, “I’m not going to say anything. Even if I did want to get revenge, I’d never out you like that.”

XY looked up. “You’re really not going to tell anyone?”

“Of course not. You have to tell people yourself, whenever you’re ready.”

“But what if … I’m never ready?”

Luka leaned back against the wall of the box. “Just take your time. You get to come out on your own terms, okay?”

“I’ve tried.” XY’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “I’ve been so close to telling my dad so many times. I think he secretly knows already. But he pretends that everything is normal. And I can never bring myself to just … tell him. He always gets so mad if there are ever rumors about it in the tabloids. He says it’ll ruin my image, and sales will go down, and the label will go bankrupt—”

“That’s not true.”

“What do you mean?”

“I highly doubt that you being gay will ruin your dad’s business.”

“But he says—”

“I told you—he sucks and he’s wrong,” Luka said firmly. “Honestly, I think it would be fine.”

“Yeah?” XY sounded hopeful.

“Yeah.”

XY’s arms relaxed around his legs. “You know, I never thought that the first person I’d talk to about this stuff would be the guy who stole my voice.”

“I—I’m the first person you’ve come out to?”

XY nodded. “Actually, you’re part of the reason I, like, fully realized it. I’d been questioning for a long time, but after Silencer, I just knew.”

Luka swallowed down a creeping sense of dread. “Uh … I’m kind of afraid to ask what you’re talking about.”

“Dude, you don’t remember?” XY looked surprised.

A flash of horror ran through Luka. “Oh no. _Please_ don’t tell me that I kissed you or something when I was akumatized.”

XY let out a nasally guffaw. “Pshaw! Naw, bro, of course not. But you did, like, tenderly cradle my face before you took my voice. Trust me; it was _very_ homo.”

Luka’s face flushed. “That wasn’t me. I don’t even remember it.”

“Yeah, but _I_ do.” XY smirked. “You thought I was cute even when I was totally ruining your life.”

“I may not remember anything, but I know for sure that you’re wrong about _that._ ”

“Whatever, homie. I know I’m irresistible.”

“Don’t you mean irritating?”

“Irritating how _sexy_ I am, amiright?” XY grinned.

Luka rolled his eyes. Just like that, the old XY was back.

But no … something underneath was different. Luka could still hear XY’s song, wistful and wary, but there was a new harmony threading through it now—something high and hopeful, like a caged bird taking flight for the first time.

A few minutes later, their actual cage disappeared in a bright swirl of magic.

“Dude!” XY stood up, stretching his arms out in the open arm. “Mr. Snake finally saved us!”

“Pretty sure it was Ladybug,” Luka said, standing up too.

“Nope,” XY said. “Maybe she saved you, but Mr. Snake is the one who saved me. Thinking about his abs got me through a very trying time.”

Luka crouched back down, partly to pick up his guitar but mostly to hide his flushing cheeks. (Why did that even make him blush? Those abs weren’t even really his. Besides, it was _XY_ saying it. That was _not_ a compliment.)

XY flicked one of the strings on the guitar. “You know, your music sucks, but that one song was pretty dece, I guess, so I might rip it off for my new album. And you better not make a big stink about it and sic your girlfriend on me and steal my voice again.”

Luka swung the guitar over his shoulder and adjusted the strap. “I don’t mind this time. It’s your song, anyway.”

“What do you mean, it’s my song?”

“It’s the melody that was playing in your heart.”

XY stared. “Dude, that’s the gayest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Gayer than you telling me about your gay awakening?”

“Bruh! Shut up!” XY’s head swiveled from side to side, his cheeks darkening. “You said you wouldn’t tell!”

“I’m not,” Luka said. “But come on … you walked right into that one.”

XY laughed. It was still as nasally as Luka remembered, but this time it felt warmer. “Pshaw! I guess that’s fair.”

A shout rang out across the street. “XY! There you are!”

Luka groaned. There was a voice he _really_ hated.

Bob Roth jogged over, huffing under his mustache. “What are you doing? You can’t let the paparazzi see you with this nobody.”

“I’m _right_ _here_ ,” Luka said.

Mr. Roth ignored him. “Come on, son. Let’s get to your stylist. Your signature hairstyle is all messed up. It’s not good—”

“—not good for my image. Yeah, I get it, Dad,” XY finished impatiently. “Gimme a minute, okay? I wanna …” He glanced at Luka. “I mean, uh, this dude wanted an autograph.”

“Fine, but hurry up. The akuma threw off our schedule for today, but it’ll be back on soon.” Mr. Roth looked at his watch. “Meet me by the limo in five.”

He strode back across the street without so much as a second glance. So he really _had_ forgotten all about Silencer. Typical.

Luka turned to XY. “Look, thanks for the offer, I guess, but I’m really not interested in an autograph.”

“Naw, I know. I just … wanted to ask you something.” XY took a breath. “Did you mean what you said in there? About deciding who you’re going to be?”

“Of course.”

His voice lowered to a hush. “You really think anyone can change? Even … even me?”

XY’s blue eyes were wide and earnest, pinning Luka where he stood.

If he’d asked that question yesterday, Luka would’ve just scoffed. But he could still hear that hopeful tune in XY’s heart.

“Yeah,” he said. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”

XY’s face lit up. “Hey, Second Chance! Like Mr. Hottie-Abs McHissy Snake.”

Luka snorted. “Yeah. Exactly.”

A car horn honked across the street. Mr. Roth rolled down the window, pointing to his watch.

“Ya, ya, coming, Dad!” XY called.

“Well, bye,” Luka said. He turned to leave, but XY caught him by the shoulder.

“Wait! Before you go, I just wanted to say … thanks for helping me in there.”

Luka froze. XY had actually _thanked_ him? Was this a trick? Maybe this was an illusion created by the akumatized villan. But no, Ladybug and Chat Noir had already defeated them. And besides, even back in the open air, the smell of Axe and Doritos was much too real to be an illusion.

“You were right,” XY went on. “My dad’s wrong. Wrong about you. And wrong about me. And … I was wrong too. What I did—stealing your music—it wasn’t okay. I’m … I’m sorry, Luka.”

Luka’s heart skipped a beat. Before now, he wasn’t sure XY even remembered his name.

“I forgive you,” he found himself saying.

XY beamed. For once, it wasn’t a smirk or a sneer. It was a genuine smile. And Luka had to admit—it was nice.

XY glanced over his shoulder at the waiting car. Then he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Luka’s cheek.

“No homo,” he said with a grin. “See you around?”

Luka blinked away his daze. “Yeah. Sure. Maybe.”

The car honked again.

“I gotta go. Peace out.” XY threw his hand sign and then turned away. Luka watched him jog across the street and climb into the limo.

“Bye … Xavier,” he said softly.


End file.
